Big Claw

In the Mississippi Delta
lived the mountain cat Big Claw.
He moved down to the delta ‘cause
the mountains rubbed him raw.
The other mountain cats made fun
of him all livelong day.
But Big Claw found the cold too much,
and so he moved away.

Plus Big Claw had no time at all
for taunting feline mouth.
So off he went with all due haste
unto the “Southern” south.
Most southern place on Earth, so called,
for culture and for race.
One day among the cotton, Claw
found weevils on his face.

The times bad temper tugged at Claw
were few and far between.
Yet weevils on the face of Big
unleashed a spate of mean.
He stormed along River Yazoo
in unbecoming stomp.
And though he preferred to stay dry,
he sloshed into a swamp.

He brushed along the rugged reeds
and felt the swampy muck.
There were a couple times Big Claw
thought he had gotten stuck.
But all the weevils were removed--
Big Claw bereft of stress.
He pulled himself out of the swamp,
a mountain mouser mess.

The weevils gone, Big Claw just purred;
he flopped along swamp’s shore.
Although he was a robust cat,
it drained him to the core.
He felt those hunger pangs begin
in lowland interlude.
Yet on a nearby two-lane road,
he saw wagons with food.


40 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
11-12-15
________

Requirements:
--Mississippi Delta
--mountain cat
--bad temper
--wagons with food